On March 6th he had some swelling on the underside of his jaw. After talking to Dr. Becker I put him on Benedryl and Tribrissen, which he took readily in food, but the next day the swelling had increased - he looked as though he had mumps. Dr. Becker came out during her lunch hour to evaluate him, and noted that his tongue and gums were a bit paler than Marion's and Miska's and that he looked a little pot-bellied compared to the other wolves. Monty palpated him and said that Seneca tensed his belly, when palpated, and seemed to have a mass there. Despite the swelling around his mouth he was social, greeted us, and wanted (and got) some donated gourmet dog cookies that he and Miska have been so fond of. We arranged to bring him to the clinic for blood work and x-rays on Thursday, March 8th.
Blood work revealed a red blood cell count of seven. In a normal animal it would be forty. Dr. Becker was amazed that Seneca was up and walking around with that degree of anemia. When she drew blood, even to our unaided eyes his blood looked very watery. A transfusion was imperative to keep him alive. His spleen was enormously distended, and Dr. Becker, to put it mildly, suspected an aggressive, metastized cancer. We discussed the possibilities of a transfusion and spleen removal even though Dr. Becker thought an operation would likely not cure him but, at best, might borrow some more time for him. We discussed how likely he was to enjoy this “borrowed time.” While we talked, Seneca’s heart rate began dropping. Considering all the options, including the chances of his being able to enjoy, rather than just endure, whatever time he had left, and the chances of his dying during the operation, or even while we were obtaining blood for a transfusion, we decided that the most humane thing was simply not let him wake up.
Seneca’s winter went much as usual. In retrospect, since it was his last, I am glad that Monty gave in so often to Seneca’s and his fellow Cookie Monster, Miska’s, pleas for those gourmet dog cookies.
When death takes someone dear to us, it’s common to think of favorite memories, incidents that define that individual. For many Wolf Parkers Seneca was the exemplum of a good alpha wolf. During Seneca’s tenure as alpha and also during the summer of 1998 when Miska demoted him to beta male, he was tolerant towards his subordinates, and his subordinates often spontaneously approached him and gave him friendly greetings and submission. He did not have to force others to submit. I think his tolerance rested in large part on his confidence. He could be tolerant and friendly because his often rowdy pack members simply did not wake in Seneca any significant amount of fear and defensive aggression. (He could, however, be extremely irritated by their proximity during the breeding season.)
Seneca was always very interested in any construction or maintenance going on in the enclosure, or just outside it. When we brought the fence on the west side of the big enclosure out a few yards to incorporate the observation building in the fence line, Seneca was there and as soon as the fence builders were close enough, he reached through the fence and patted one of them on the head with a paw. He probably wanted the man’s hat. When we were in removing old fence once the new one was in place, Seneca focused on our tools. In line with his ambition to be a tool using animal he watched his chance and made off with a sledge hammer. Our grounds keeper, Robert, insisted that Seneca was a tool-abuser rather than a tool user, but the sledge hammer was fine after the handle was taped to pad the palm-irritating gouge marks Seneca left in it. Over the years “Little Monkey” supervised a lot of maintenance and made off with assorted tools. He was also able to learn, as his mother Altair did with a guillotine gate, to manipulate a pulley and raise a drop bar. Videographer Tom O’Dowd caught Seneca on tape opening the gate to the stockade corral during one hot bison demonstration. Seneca’s skill effectively let the humans know that, as far as the wolves were concerned, they were done with chasing bison for the day and heading to the pool (stock tank in the corral) to unwind. When this clip was played as part of a “film festival” at the 2005 International Wolf Conference in Colorado, Seneca’s skill won a spontaneous outburst of laughter from the delighted audience.
Though Seneca was socially adept with wolves, he made wolf-human interactions … interesting…. With one group of “seminarians” he learned to grab their jacket hems in the middle of the behind, back up and pull or swing them around. Voluminous jackets were the fashion with that group and if Seneca kept backing up, taking the slack out of the jackets, he could, like a good calf roping horse keeping the rope taut between itself and a recumbent calf, prevent his victims from getting away because their arms were too short to reach him and pick him off their clothing. The staff had to intervene repeatedly.
In contrast to that impishness, we think he once tried to rescue Amanda. The summer of 1998 brought a lot of rain; the pond overflow clogged and the pond flooded. Amanda was in up to her waist clearing the clog and the whirlpool around the overflow got stronger and noisier as she removed the detritus. She couldn't have fallen in, and I don't think she was in any real danger, but perhaps Seneca did not agree. He went down to her and reached out a tentative paw. She put out her hand, palm up and he rested his paw on her hand. When she gently tried to pull him toward her he withdrew his paw. She held out her hand and he gently took her thumb in his mouth and led her up the dam away from the whirlpool. There he lay down for a tummy rub. Amanda and I both laughed. We agreed that one possible interpretation was that he was trying to get her away from the whirlpool.
Like his brother Chinooklings, Seneca reached a point in life when he stopped readily welcoming new humans into his friendship circle. But even those who had to follow his career from outside the fence, feel privileged to have known him. He is much missed.